


Familiar Territory

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Drama, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 04:13:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/793837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim catalogues...  and all is revealed.<br/>This story is a sequel to Virgin Territory.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Familiar Territory

**Author's Note:**

> This is for all the lovely people who wrote and demanded (in the nicest way, of course) a sequel to VT. This might actually change my views on Valentine's Day. 
> 
> Warnings: None, not a one.

## Familiar Territory

by J M Griffin

Author's disclaimer: Jim and Blair are not mine, damn it. They belong to Pet Fly and UPN. Whaaaa!!!

* * *

He came in the door quietly, knowing his lover was home, but fast asleep. The loft was very warm with a dying fire in the fireplace. The upper level must be stifling, Jim thought as he made his way up the stairs slowly, anticipating the sight of his lover snugged down in the bed, sleeping soundly in his cocoon of covers. Blair was so cold natured, Jim wouldn't put it past him to be all covered up even in this all but sultry heat. Jim knew there was a foolish grin on his face as he paused on the top step; he turned his gaze to the bed and... 

His hand shot out to grab the railing as he gaped at the spectacular sight before his eyes. Blair, sprawled sideways on the bed, atop the fitted sheet, on his stomach, totally nude. The sheets and blankets must be on the floor somewhere, but Jim could not take his eyes from the man spread out before him: Blair's hair caressing the tops of his broad shoulders, the sinuous dip of his back, the slight groove that ran down to his gorgeous ass. The globes of his butt, high and smooth, the shadowed indentations of his hips, the crease where his ass met his legs, those sturdy legs which were spread out so Jim one could see just a hint of his balls. The backs of Blair's thighs were almost hairless, but his calves were furry. Even his smallish feet were beautiful, with the high arches and long toes. 

"Breathe, Ellison, breathe." Jim whispered Sentinel soft. He breathed in and out with the man on the bed, loving him from a distance, loving him up close. He'd loved him from the first moment he saw him. He loved him more than life itself, now. 

Jim stepped on up into the room, removed his own clothes and sat gingerly on the edge of the bed, just looking, drinking his fill, remembering the first time he had ever seen Blair. He knew the younger man didn't remember or surely he would have mentioned it. It had been a long time back, on a very warm February night over twelve years ago. Jim had been home on leave from the army and, with nothing better to do, he'd accepted an invitation to go to a party with an old, high school friend. 

At the sorority party there had been this beautiful boy, younger than the others, so obviously seeking his sexual identity, so obviously new to the world of love and lust. Jim had meant to stay away, not to tease, not to tempt himself with a kiss or touch. But the boy had come out on the porch and Jim hadn't been able to keep from reaching out a hand to touch that downy cheek, to kiss the lush lips, to wind an arm around that promise of a man. 

He'd been shocked at his own boldness; this was only a boy and that had never been Jim's thing. But the young student didn't kiss like a boy, didn't smell like a boy -- sharp arousal in the night, an early resurfacing of repressed Sentinel senses. When the others had burst out on the porch, Jim had been relieved, because he was afraid he might not have been able to hold himself back. 

Sweet, sweet, boy of memory. He'd hovered in Jim's mind for years, surfacing at the oddest times. He hadn't even known his name. 

And then one day he'd shown up at the hospital, wearing a lab coat and talking a mile a minute. The warning bells had gone off there in the exam room. Jim had channeled his arousal into anger in Blair's supply room office. He'd pushed the memories down and away, hidden his love for almost three years. And then, on a very cold February night, full of ice and fire, they had fell upon one another. Rapturous tangle of love and lust - a night he'd remember always. 

Still, he often wondered why Blair did not remember their first encounter. 

Had it meant so little to him? He'd been very young. Only sixteen, Jim knew now. Overwhelmed by college and life in general, one fleeting moment with a soldier on a shadowed porch wasn't much, really. 

Jim shook his head, banishing his reflections in favor of continuing his cataloguing of his lover's naked body, taking in the sprinkle of freckles on Blair's left shoulder, legacy of a bad sunburn last summer, the tiny scar at his elbow, from the pins that had been used to set his arm when he was just a kid. Jim let his eyes stroke the alignment of vertebrae, familiar hills and valleys on this supple man. The faint, faint hint of a passion mark on Blair's left buttock brought a hint of smile to Jim's solemn mouth. His gaze traveled to the dip of the back of the knee, such a vulnerable place, and he leaned down to drop a tiny kiss there. Then he extended a finger and gave a delicate swipe to one big toe. 

Blair groaned and moved on the bed. His blue eyes opened and he looked up to find Jim gazing at him. 

"Come here," he beckoned softly, his voice not at all sleep tinged, though Jim was sure he'd been sleeping. 

Blair rolled to one hip and pulled Jim all the way onto the bed, wrapped his very warm body around the bigger man and began a slow undulation that was at once languid and tantalizing, hinting of more. But Jim didn't need more right now and he went with the movement, drinking in Blair's scent, grassy vetiver, subtle musk, as Blair kept every inch of his body in contact with Jim. 

Jim closed his eyes, seeing each part of his lover in his mind's eye this time, as the abundance of Blair was pressed against him, and he was floating, floating, on a gathering wave, like surfing in the deep, deep ocean, the pinnacle of power building beneath him, inside him, until it peaked and he came in a silent roar, all in a delicious, buoyant rush. 

"Ah," was all he could say. 

"My name is Blair Sandburg," the beauty in his arms whispered into his ear. 

Finis 


End file.
